


The suburban life of a crow - a documentary by Ennoshita Chikara (4)

by Andramion



Series: Zine works [8]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Director's Cut Zine, Gen, baby ennoshita gave his dad a mini heart attack, bird references - so many bird references, director ennoshita, the untold story of Ennoshita Chikara in middle school, we stan supportive parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:06:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22862980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andramion/pseuds/Andramion
Summary: It starts with a bird.Chikara is four, all short arms and tiny hands reaching for everything he doesn’t know. Sometimes, in the mornings before his parents wake up, Chikara sneaks out of bed, dragging his blanket behind him, and creates a soft world of his own on the wide windowsill.And then there’s the bird.-Chikara made his first film at four years old. He's not been able to stop since.
Series: Zine works [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/907608
Comments: 5
Kudos: 32





	The suburban life of a crow - a documentary by Ennoshita Chikara (4)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Ennoshita Zine 2019-2020: Director's Cut.

It starts with a bird.

Chikara is four, all short arms and tiny hands reaching for everything he doesn’t know. There are corners and drawers and stairs to be discovered inside, but his very favourite is the window.

Sometimes, in the mornings before his parents wake up, Chikara sneaks out of bed, dragging his blanket behind him, and creates a soft world of his own on the wide windowsill. From there, he watches dewdrops glisten as they hang onto the tips of the willowy blades of grass; he looks past the trees across the street until the sky turns green, yellow, orange, then bright.

And then there’s the bird.

It arrives in the garden shortly after Chikara hides in his cocoon of blankets and it hops across the grass – searching for something, but Chikara doesn’t know what. Its black feathers are glossy, almost blue sometimes, and Chikara can’t take his eyes off of it. He watches as it pecks at the grass, picks up a twig and flies to the tree on the corner of their garden. For a few moments, Chikara can’t see it, but then it’s back again, continuing its search.

He wants to tell his parents about it, but even at age four, Chikara still isn’t one for words. It’s hard sometimes, to explain all the things he sees and thinks and feels. So, he doesn’t talk to his parents about it, but he sees it again, the next morning, and the one after that. He follows it through his binoculars until his parents’ bedroom light comes on and the day begins for real.

At breakfast a few days later, Chikara gets told off for the first time in a while. His parents are running around the house getting ready for the day and Chikara is playing with leftover grains of rice in his bowl.

“I swear I had it on the bedside table,” his dad says. “I always put it on the bedside table.”

His mum picks up some papers and puts them down again, opens several drawers in the kitchen and even checks inside the fridge. Then she asks: “Chikara, sweetie, do you know where daddy’s phone is?”

He points in the direction of the living room; to the window. His dad’s phone is there, on the floor next to Chikara’s blanket, exactly where Chikara had left it an hour ago when his parents got up and came out of their bedroom.

His mum tuts and goes to grab it as his dad sits down at the kitchen table. He runs a wet cloth over Chikara’s face before talking.

“Chi-chan,” he says, “daddy’s phone is not for playing, you know that, right? Ah, thanks, love.” He takes the phone that Chikara’s mum holds it out to him. “Chikara? Can you let me know you understand?”

Chikara raises his head again and nods.

“I know Daddy lets you play games on his phone sometimes, you have to ask first, alright?”

Chikara nods again and then holds out his arms, reaching for the phone. He has to wait for a bit, but eventually it’s given to him and he finds the video he was looking at all morning. He turns the phone to show it to his dad.

“Crow,” he says, smiling proudly as the shaky video of the bird in their garden plays.

* * *

Chikara is twelve when his parents give him their video camera. It’s an old digital one, and Chikara has to empty the memory card every day, but no present has ever made him this happy.

He carries it around with him everywhere. He knows his middle school friends don’t really mind, even if they never neglect to tell him how weird he is. They go along with the little plays he thinks up from time to time, acting them out numerous times while Chikara records them from different angles.

In the evening, after he’s finished his homework, Chikara spends his limited computer time on editing the material, picking the perfect music to put under it. Afterwards, when his parents say he has to get off the computer, he plots out new stories in his notebook.

At the end of his first year, one of his friends is made captain of the volleyball club, as there are no second years to take over, and he asks Chikara to shoot a promotional video. So far, Chikara has gotten away with not being in a club since he had cram school, but while he films the volleyball team, he itches to join in with the game.

It’s strange, because he never felt the need to join the theatre club, or the gardening club, or any of the other groups he helped out with recordings during his first year. But volleyball is fun, and he becomes fast friends with most of the people on the team, and his video helps recruit eight first years when the new school year starts.

Second year is fun, incredibly fun and incredibly busy. Between his new team, learning a new sport, making decisions about high school, filming and studying, Chikara’s time at middle school flies by. Before he knows it, he has his acceptance letter from Karasuno and graduation is nearing.

Karasuno is the logical choice – they have a volleyball team that did well a while back and the teacher from his summer class in film works teaches Chinese there. Chikara might not be interested in learning the language, but it’s a nice idea that he could speak to her if he has any film-related questions. He’d peeked into the gym after his entrance exam as well, along with a few of the other prospective new students who play volleyball. They didn’t mind the camera, they said at the time, and Chikara is determined to remember their names before his first day – Narita, Shimamura, Kawata, Kinoshita and the two loud ones of who Chikara still isn’t sure who is Tanaka and who is Nishinoya.

In the last few days leading up to graduation, Chikara spends every free minute in his room. He’s got three years’ worth of raw material to sort through, to cut, paste, score. If he does this well, he might be able to convince new high school friends to join his film projects, but most importantly, he wants to thank the friends he has.

He’s got footage of the first time Shoichi finished the 5k run; of his little group lunching out on the grass in the courtyard during summer; their school festival café and the play from a year later; the group hug when his team made it through the first round of regionals; Hideaki’s stiff pose while trying on the suit for his big sister’s wedding; the scenery from the train window on their class trip to Kyoto; his friends holding their newly bought study charms to their foreheads as they pray to pass their high school entry exams.

He wishes he could finish it off with a shot of them with their middle school diplomas. With a sigh, he leans back in his chair and stretches his back. It’s dark outside already, and he’ll need to start rendering the video soon if he wants to get it done in time for graduation tomorrow.

There’s a knock from the hallway. His door creaks open and his mum peers in, blinking against the light of Chikara’s desk lamp.

“Honey, what are you still doing up?”

“I haven’t been able to find the right ending to the video for tomorrow. I just need a little bit longer, but I’ll go to bed soon, promise.”

His mum shakes her head and steps into the room properly. “You know, Chikara,” she starts as she sits down on the edge of his bed. “Believe it or not, I was also nervous the night before my middle school graduation. Once upon a time.” She laughs at herself and Chikara turns away from his computer to look at her, all gentle smiles and sleepiness. “Try me, sweetheart. What’s really eating at you?”

He looks at the video editor on his three screens, the movie posters on the wall.

“You’re afraid the kids at your new school won’t understand your movie stuff?”

“Right on the head,” he replies, cringing a little. It’s stupid, to feel insecure about sharing something important to him, but he really wants to get along at Karasuno. “I don’t want to stop filming, but-”

“Then don’t.” Chikara both loves and hates the smile-and-a-raised-eyebrow his mother gives him anytime she thinks he’s being silly. “You know you can have film friends and volleyball friends and that they don’t necessarily have to be the same friends.”

Chikara laughs and shakes his head, turning back to his computer. As usual, his mother is right.

“That’s a lot of friends,” is the only objection he can raise. In return, his mum gets up and gives him a hug.

“You’re a likable boy, Chikara, just listen to your mother. Now finish up your project and go to bed. You don’t want to look tired tomorrow.”

“Mum, I look tired even when I’m hyperactive. A few hours of sleep isn’t going to fix anything.”

With a kiss to his temple, his mother lets him go. “I just told you to listen to your mother. Sleep well, honey.”

“Night, mum.”

Left to his quiet room again, Chikara puts his headphones on and clicks through his folders of raw material until he finds exactly the footage that will finish the video off nicely.

* * *

It ends in flight.

“Is this your graduation album?” Narita asks one afternoon when he and Kinoshita are visiting to go over Chikara’s next script. He’s perched in front of Chikara’s low bookshelf and points at the large book with his middle school’s name on it.

“Hmmm, yeah,” Chikara answers, leaning over to pull out the album. “My dad glued the program to the inside cover, see.”

Narita runs his finger down the different points of the graduation day, until he stops by Chikara’s name. “You made a video? Why haven’t we seen this yet?”

“It’s just a bunch of people you don’t know doing things you weren’t there for.”

“You just described every movie ever,” Kinoshita interjects and he elbows Chikara in the side. “C’mon, show us.”

“Yeah, c’mon!”

“Alright, alright, just… keep in mind that I was barely fifteen when I made this.”

Kinoshita grins at having gotten what he wanted. Chikara tells them about his friends from back then some more while he boots up his computer, finds the file stashed in the ‘middle school’ folder.

Together, the three of them watch the compilation of Chikara’s memories as Chikara fields new promises of doing the same for them. He’s pretty sure Narita and Kinoshita know that he’s already had it in the works since their first day at Karasuno.

On screen, the images change from recreations of their final exams to a garden – green grass delineated by tall trees, and a shaky change of perspective.

A bird with glossy black feathers, surrounded by six others of its kind, all of them pecking the ground and playing in the morning dew.

Four-year-old Chikara speaks, a tiny high pitched voice whispering to describe what he’s seeing in front of him.

“Fly,” he says.

And they all take off together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!  
> I really hope you enjoyed this fic, comments are welcome as always!!


End file.
